


Professor's Garb

by luucarii



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, It's Byleth's Birthday, Mild Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 08:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luucarii/pseuds/luucarii
Summary: Jeralt stresses when he realizes Byleth's birthday is just a week away.





	Professor's Garb

**Author's Note:**

> Mild Spoilers for Byleth's story but it's all stuff pre-time skip. There's faint allusion to spoiler stuff post-time skip but it's literally a sentence so hopefully it's not too bad. 
> 
> Also, implied Golden Deer route but nothing from the route itself!

Jeralt never had to put much thought into Byleth’s birthday. Sure, he would remind her the morning of, ruffled her hair a bit and forced himself to smile when she gave those voidful eyes and a dry _ thank you _ . He would gift her a sword or a new set of armor, something he was sure could only satisfy her mind as a mercenary. He never worried about her interests ( _ since she didn’t have any _ ), if she didn’t like it ( _ since she always made a blank smile regardless _ ) or whether or not he should get her something different ( _ what else could a mercenary possibly want? _).

But as the monastery began to bring life into her, began to push out her smile and the playful sparkle in her blue eyes, Jeralt stressed when he realized her birthday was just a week away. After years of never having to think about what she would want or how she’d react, his sudden shift to concerning himself over her newfound personality was conflicting. He loved her smile and he wanted to make sure he could bring it out again with the perfect birthday gift.

He figured asking around would help the issue, though he made a point to avoid her students. Kids talk, secrets spread, and the last thing he wanted was “Jeralt being a hopelessly lost father” being whispered around the monastery. 

He tried Hanneman first, but quickly remembered his personality being solely focused on Crests and his fascination with Byleth’s. Manuela was out of the question, too many casual conversations turned flirtatious, littered with innuendos to even consider the attempt. He got fairly far with Seteth, giving his experiences with Flayn as a bit of inspiration, though despite her new expression of emotion, Byleth and Flayn were two different people and it was unlikely that they were to find happiness in the same thing. Much to his reluctance, Jeralt forced himself to turn to Rhea.

“The Professor’s birthday?” She mused a faint smile, “Goddess, how old does she turn?”

“Twenty.” Jeralt longed to pass a teasing comment on how the years have flown but he knew better than to get too engaged in conversation with the archbishop. There was too much unknown and mysterious about her that left him unsettled, even months after returning to the monastery.

“The child grows ever older. What a blessing. You must be proud to have seen such a fine woman grow. Soon, you’ll be watching her married. Such is the life of a father.”

“I don’t want to think of a man taking her away just yet. But that’s besides the point.” Jeralt let out a sigh, hand over his forehead, “I don’t know what to get her.”

“For a gift? What have you given her in the past?” 

“That’s the problem,” he waved a hand in the air, “I’ve gotten her relatively the same gift every year. She’s my kid but had no personality to gauge a gift to which she’d like.”

Rhea stiffened only slightly, she was thankful Jeralt hadn’t noticed. She hummed for a moment, genuinely considering the thought before she spoke once again.

“...Perhaps she would like a new outfit. Something more befitting her status as a professor? Her mercenary garb must have seen many horrible battles, it would be refreshing to dress her in something different.”

Jeralt let the idea linger in his mind for a moment, and he let out a quiet chuckle. His wife had mentioned countless times how she’d love to dress Byleth (they had already decided the name long before her birth) in different suits and dresses, silk, satin, cotton, all colors imaginable. He loved her for her boundless mind of creativity and found endless amusement in her excitement for their child.

“Jeralt?”

He lifted his head, and a gentle smile graced his hardened face. “I’m sure she’d like it.” 

* * *

Jeralt found Byleth in the only place he expected her to be, in her classroom, with her students. With a small box wrapped gorgeously with a ribbon (all thanks to Flayn) held behind his back, he watched on.

“Happy Birthday, Professor!” That was Hilda’s voice, all charmed and eager, “I think for your special day, we should take the day off training!”

“Nice try Hilda, but Teach can’t take a day off to save her life.” Claude teased with a gentle nudge of his elbow at her, before locking arms and giving her a cheeky smile, “Happy Birthday, Teach!”

“Yes, of course! Happy Birthday, Professor! I’ll be sure to paint a grand scene for you!” Ignatz looked on with eyes glistening before shrinking down slowly, “if you’d like, of course…”

All the while, the rest of her students joined in around her, wishing loud birthday wishes and heartfelt thanks for being their teacher. Raphael tried to gift her a plate of food from the dining hall (that looked to be picked at slightly), Marianne stuttered out her wishes before shying away back to her seat, Lysithea kept humble with a simple wish and a smile while Lorenz spoke of how his father would handle birthday celebrations, and Leonie looked excited for her professor but also wondered where Jeralt had wandered off to considering the special day.

“Didn’t you mention how Jeralt always gave you a gift on your birthday?” Claude asked with a peering eye of curiosity.

“Yeah, he always bought me new weapons and armor.” She nodded before bringing her hand up to her chin to ponder her past birthdays. “But, now that I’m not a mercenary, I’m curious to see what he got.”

  
“Only Jeralt could buy his only daughter _weapons_ for her birthday as opposed to _anything_ else.” Hilda sneered quietly and Leonie shot her a glare.

“Captain Jeralt knows what he’s doing! I’m sure he’s bought a fantastic gift for the professor!”

Jeralt couldn’t watch any longer. He caught the group’s attention with a quiet knock on the door. Byleth turned back first, her eyes softening at the sight of her father. Leonie’s eyes sparkled, Hilda held back a snicker and Claude nudged Byleth forward, almost saying _ go _with his chuckle. Jeralt acknowledged the way he looked at her, the same feeling of adoration he himself felt with his late wife, swimming amidst his scheming brown eyes.

“Hope you don’t mind me borrowing your professor.” Jeralt said aloud. He outstretched his hand to beckon her to him, “take a walk with me, kid?”

Byleth nodded and rushed up to him, calling back a teasing comment that Ignatz was in charge. He walked her through the monastery, making casual conversation (the basics and the corny, “How does it feel to be twenty years old?” despite it granting her nothing but the ability to drink legally) while he tried not to turn overly sappy. 

Not yet, at least. He was expecting to shed at least a few tears later.

They stopped in the cemetery, in front of her mother’s grave. The granite sparkled under the midday sun, the words left unfaded by the wear of time reflected against the soft wistful gaze of Byleth’s eyes. She kneeled down, bringing her fingers to the year of her death.

“I wonder how we would have celebrated together.” The monotonous tone in her voice had already begun to fade months after she began working at the monastery but as she spoke, there was a slight rasp of regret. “I never met her… but I miss her. Is that possible?”

“Of… Of course it is. You never had the chance to experience a mother’s love. It’s only… natural.” He didn’t realize it until after he had said it but the word tugged at his heart. Natural was something Byleth never was. Born an emotionless, heartless baby, raised as a monotonous, lifeless body. Twenty years of silence, of nods, of strange looks and curious whispers. All that led up to this day, the day of her birth twenty years later where Jeralt could finally look to his daughter and find emotion in her eyes. He bit back a shaky breath.

Byleth stood and stepped back to stand at her father’s side. She smiled. “But you still raised me right. And I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that.”

“No thanks needed, kid.” He raised his hand and ruffled her hair, almost falling to tears at the little giggle she made. “But I did get you something, and _ finally _ breaking tradition, it’s not a sword or a new chestplate.”

Byleth hummed, raising an eyebrow. Jeralt brought the box out from behind his back. He handed it to her but raised a finger for her not to open it just yet.

“Your mother, when she was pregnant with you, she was… always so eager for you to be born. Regardless if you came out a boy or girl, she was excited to see how you looked in different outfits. I had always decided to leave dressing you up to her, but obviously that didn’t work out. I raised you right but a part of me always regrets never giving in to trying that playful fantasy your mother had, in seeing how you looked outside of your mercenary wear. So, a professor of the esteemed Officer’s Academy needs a professor-like outfit.” He nudged his head and Byleth undid the ribbon, pulling off the lid.

She pulled out first a black blouse with a beige center, decorated with six black buttons down the torso, the sleeves extended down to her hands and with it came a set of sheer black half-gloves. The skirt that accompanied had a small design at the hips, almost resembling the Crests of Flames she had. Under the skirt came a cape and before she could look up at her father for a thank you, a thin sword in its sheath appeared in front of her, being held out by Jeralt with a sheepish grin.

“Old habits die hard.”

Byleth sighed as her lips curled. She inhaled before breaking out into feverish laughter, eyes shut with delight. Her arms flew over his shoulders as she settled herself into an embrace. Jeralt stiffed for a second before finally acknowledging that it was the faint warmth of his daughter beside him. That she was smiling, laughing and hugging him. He let out a weak chuckle, squeezing her tight as a silent wet tear raced down his cheek.

“Happy Birthday, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me how this fic was originally planned to end up being a Byleth/Claude fic but somehow shifted to a family fluff fic because Jeralt deserves more love and he deserves happiness with his child. (Though I might seriously write a follow up on this fic with Claude/Byleth if you catch my drift hoho)
> 
> Aah, the outfit he gives her is indeed the Academy DLC outfit which is one of my favorite outfits Byleth wears period.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
